


Sacrosanct Measures

by IdlePace



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Blood, Dead People, Dissection, F/M, NSFW, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 11:05:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2148330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdlePace/pseuds/IdlePace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a dark room they make their plans. They have been used for the last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrosanct Measures

I can feel him behind me, watching over my shoulder. He’s has a habit of getting excited too easily, but his mood is quite contagious, so I can’t complain.

When I feel his hand on back, I know he’s pleased with what I’m doing; probably since I finally bring the applied aspect to his thesis consumed life. He was purely nose deep in a text book with a slip up of mechanical experiments before we clicked. I’m so glad the board transferred me here, a chance in a million for us to meet and what a coincidence that we did.

He’s trying to hold back a cackle again. I’ve told him to let it out when it’s just the two of us here in the after school hours. Everyone still believes we only meet to mark papers together, two like-minded professors sharing a cup of coffee and burning the mid night fuel. How trusting and naïve our coworkers can be; I hope they never change.

I should have tied my hair up better; strands are sticking to the sweat on my face. In the cold room to preserve our project I still heat up under such exhilaration, catching it from him as he paces. His boots on the hard tiles almost drill into my skull with its monotonous sound. At times I ask him to stop and he does so, but for his body to keep up with his buzzing mind his hands are on my back again. He rubs circles and occasionally pushes soothingly at the muscles. Sometimes I think of them as encouraging gestures instead of something for his comfort.

As I slip up with the ragged saw in my hand I can’t help but let out a stream of sugar coated curses, and he just leans forward to whisper in my ear to calm me down. He adjusts one of my slipping rolled up sleeves before dabbing my brow with one of the cleaner rags.

“Why can’t I use better tools? It would make things so much easier.”

I can hear his laugh, I can feel it, softly just behind my ear.

“We need to train you with the tools you’ll be using. A sharp tool will make it easier for both involved. If we want to get the results we desire we need to use dull tools, they cause more pain.”

I know he catches my poorly worded murmur of a comeback as his fingers are on the back of my neck. I can’t feel his next laugh but I know it’s just as close as the last one as he gently brushes at the small hairs at the base of my skull.

When I pick back up the saw I have an urge to check with ungloved hands. I fear our curiosity has bounded together to build a mountain as I snap the rubber from my fingers. I push past the slashed lip of skin on the forearm and I can feel the bone I’ve indented on. It feels like I’m running my fingers along a chipped wall. The sturdy bone is so smooth, so strong, and not nicked enough.

He pokes my side with the handle of a scalpel to get my attention, but I’m still not ready to pull away from my project, not just yet.

He prods again and I greet him with a scowl that has no energy behind it. He just smiles at me with that trained innocent grin of his, the same face he uses when he lies about his personal life.

I take the surgical tool from his hands and he moves his attention to my back again.

“You’re doing wonderfully Nano.”

His lips are at the underside of my ear but I ignore the damp air the spreads along my neck as I push at the curled skin in front of me. It’s practically colourless and dry but it moves well enough for me to find the muscle. It’s still as tough as it presumably was when it had active blood flow.

“Wonder when they’ll catch on. Cadavers are supposed to be for students, not teachers.”

Finally he lets out his bottled up laughs, it’s almost a relief to hear them.

“They’re here for teaching purposes and I’m teaching you…”

Fingers lay on my hand as his coaxing grip pulls me. He bends my fingers lightly to poke at the now damaged muscle. I can feel the strings of the sturdy flesh, all tightly woven together for the sake of the body. It’s almost as if the grooves that make up my fingerprints catch as he drags them down, pushing me to feel deep into the open area.

I shiver as he slowly drags my hand out from the cold cavity, sliding up the arm through the short curled hairs. We dig our nails around the curve of the shoulder; I swear I can feel it pop like a cap on a bottle.

“Break the fingers.”

The instruction sounds more like he’s letting me have a treat and I try to slow myself to keep him from seeing my obvious excitement, to avoid proving the tone right. He always holds me back from my more rash actions, keeping me to flow in a quiet and clinical manner. When he does let me go, even for a second, I can always feel my skin heat and my blood bubble as I can fulfill my need for a quick result.

Taking the middle finger into my palm, I wonder how many things it had once been asked to grasp. How many times did it help hold the man still? How many times did he let it fly in anger? How many times did it help him grip a lover?

Lalna notices my joy as the pull the finger back fiercely, hearing such a satisfying snap of the bone and crackle as the fragments grind together. I don’t hear him comment on the piercing squeal I let off as I yank the finger again, wanting to hear the connecting fluid in the joints pop.

Breaking the last four was like opening Christmas crackers. Pulling with every piece of strength I had to hear the splinter of calcium rich bones, a sound of my accomplishments, my prize is a mangled hand.

My eyes stick to the blood crusted saw, wondering if Lalna would allow me to saw a digit or two off before we return to our regularly scheduled programing.

“When breaking fingers Nano, on a warm body, what do we do?”

I should have suspected he’d quiz me before letting me fully be satisfied.

“Wait twenty minutes between each finger. Let the pain dull before forcing it to flare anew.”

I can hear his lips stretch as he smiles, the meat of his mouth pulling away from his teeth. He’s pleased with my answer, he should be. I remember his teaching as if I’m reciting manners taught to me by my mother.

“And at the end of the day?”

He really is pushing my limits. I just want one finger gone off the dead man’s hand, is that too much to ask for?

“We must clean the wounds.”

I did nothing when my voice cracked. I’m tired, there’s nothing I could have done to play it over and pretend it didn’t happen.

“Why is that Nano?”

Pushing, he always loves to push his limits; especially with me.

“Keep them healthy and we can begin a clean day again. Make them experience the same pain like it was new. A healthy body is one that can suffer the most.”

I can hear pages shuffling around; he’s back at his desk, reading over his practices as I play them out for him.

“That’s exactly right my dear.”

I can feel a shiver caused by his dripping words. It makes its way up my back to nestle in the bottom of my mind, vibrating like a frightened child.

He’s back behind me again and adjusts the other forgotten sleeve of the of lab coat that’s two sizes too big for me, but always looks good on him. When I catch him in the corners of my eyes at these times, it’s always strange to see him without it. I can feel the lingering warmth from him on the white fabric as it drifts along my body.

“What do you want Nano..?”

His tones, it’s like he’s asking me what I want for my birth day.

“I want to make the flesh blister.”

Again, he’s happy with my answer. I know every right phrase to make him grin.

“Hot needles on the skin. Heat them to almost melt bend the metal and push them in deep. Burn with dry ice on the mid of the spine…”

His hands find my hips beneath the coat. He holds on like he’s gripping a cloud, fearing that I’ll slip out of his grasp.

“Rip out the nails, on the fingers and toes, slowly, one after the other.”

He rests his chin on the top of my head. I can hear the bristles on his unshaven face scrap my messy bun of hair.

“Let ants roam into their ears. Let them crawl deep into every open cavity.”

He pulls me away from the operating table. My bloodied hands shake as I bring them up to find his cheeks.

“Electrodes… cranked to poisonous volts on every soft spot of their body…”

I paint his face with the cold blood as his tongue makes contact with my pinky finger, taking deep into his mouth and against his warm inner cheek.

“I want to dislocate their bones and pop them back in, and dislocate them again and again.”

I can feel my breathing shake my chest.

“I want to peel their skin thin layer by layer!”

He’s laughing again. Laughing because he agrees, he wants to do it just as much as I do. Cadavers can never appease us.

“We will make them suffer for what they’ve done to us…”

Another cackle of agreement… and he’s exploded.

His stomach bounces against me. I can feel his anticipation spark through his voice and enter into the air around us.

“And what we will do Nano… together?”

He rubs hungrily into my hands, he’s staining his face but he’s too thrilled to care. His voice is so bright in our dim room.

“What will we do Nano?”

His words scrap from his throat as I see his frantic spit mist down in front of my face.

“We will make them pay.”

My words are repeated into my hair. He’s chanting the sentence over and over, forming a mantra.

“We will make them pay Lalna. They will pay for everything they’ve done to us. We will make them regret their words, their actions, always sweeping us off to the side, taking advantage of us…”

His breathing is beginning to pick up, matching mine and now quickly surpassing it. His chest is expanding so fast, it’s swaying me.

“Yes Nano, together, you and I, we can make them see the error of their ways.”

I close my eyes. I’m so tired but the exhilaration in his words keeps the fire in me burning. He holds me tighter and I know we’re done for tonight, he’s just as exhausted as I am.

We’ll break apart soon and clean up the room and tomorrow we’ll pretend that this never happened. Never hint even to the slightest that right here, in this very spot we write our plans; he scribbles them out on paper and pen and I use the lifeless bodies to speak for me.

Soon we will make our move so I can use my skills on a real warm and noisy body. It will be a step up in our practice and when that is depleted, all used up, we’ll follow the plan. Prove that the last harmless push they gave us was such a mistake… they shouldn’t have even thought to touch us.

“No one will ever harm us again Nano…”

His whispers again tickle my ear. He knows I want to sleep.

“They will pay. I promise we will make them pay.”


End file.
